Fill In The Blank Thursday

fill
in
the
blank
thursday

Yep, another something new. Every Thursday.
Sorry, have to keep blogging, it makes me happy, and if I have a prompt to write about when my mind isn't on track at being "creative" then I can use it as an excuse to blog. And be happy. But who needs an excuse to be happy? Oh, the quote-lover in me found this quote the other day. "There is no WAY to happiness. Happiness is THE WAY." I dig.




1. One fashion trend I really regret...
My "girls" jnCO's. The flared leg was wider than my hips are now, and there was a pixie dust fairy embroidered on them. True story, I don't want to talk about it.

2. The one thing that always completes any outfit is...
The way you rock it. Confidence is the only thing you really "must" wear. Everything else just kinda works itself out if you treat yourself like a rockstar in it :)

3. I would describe my personal style as...
vintage inspired; free-spirity; and EXPRESSIVE

4. My fashion muse is...
Kate Hudson; Mary Kate & Ashley
obsessed (check) obsessed (check) obsessed (check)
5. If I could own one designer piece of clothing it would be...

THESE Golden Goose Cowboy BOOTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

6. I would love to raid the wardrobe of...
Zooey Dechanel
Sarah Jessica Parker
The twinkies
Cameron Diaz
Kate Hudson
7. Today I am wearing...
(day) grey cotton dress, pink tie-dyed headband, and rainbows
(night) shorts, summer top, wedges, confidence

inspirational photography

here's some photography that i dig. i'm really missing my digital camera. kinda sucks only having a couple of months left here & not being able to capture some of the memories/people/places/things. but, thank goodness for my blog and for my new art journals, they tell the same story in a different kind of way.

while my blog tells my story that you can read up on throughout The 'Other' Sister, i'll sweeten the eye with some of the photo-inspiration that gets me going and prompts me to write. it's just what i do, i already know i'm a weirdo.

 i really want to take photography lessons. i think there's something really cool about being able to take pictures through a wildly artistic perspective. I think I value digi-cams a lot more now that I have suffered through a fire and the losses. i remember being a little girl and swearing on my life that i'd grab my pictures if our house were to catch on fire. REALITY: you don't grab anything but the things that breathe (oh little millie girl) and be THANKFUL for blogs, facebook, and flickr. i guess since i love photos & what all they hold is the reason why i go to this website and find inspiration. Because writer's block is real.

summer time is calling me

My mom called me out on it, and I am officially sorry. I hadn't realized that I haven't blogged since the weekend! That's so unlike me. I'm back.
I know you missed me.
I snapped it back into gear today, talking about my blog swag here, when I saw a Facebook post from my mom.
"Just wondering why my favorite blogger hasn't updated her blog in awhile? Yesterday 9:51pm
Here's why:
The weather in TUSCALOOSA has been rather amazing lately. Last Thursday I thought I was going to be swept away in a monsoon. Honestly, I thought "oh my gah, we are about to be like Nashville." I can't handle that, I'm telling you - don't even want to think about it. I pray for those disaster victims every day because I know what it feels like to see everything you love - that money can buy - sit ruined. Puts things into perspective.
Anyways, after the intense sesh of thunderstorms and scattered showers last week, it's been B E A U T I F U L in T-Town. May, is the best time ever in this state. In June, you're playing with fire if you think you can lay out without a pool or other preferred body of water that can cool you off. By July, you're just plain stupid if you think you can tough it out. It's physically impossible. But right now, in May, it's not the most comfortable heat - I mean, it gets friggin' hot, but you don't NEED a swimming hole, but by the time you get out in your redneck lawn chair and get settled you start to really wish you would have rethought the situation and posted up at a pool. Then you figure a splash in the face with the water bottle will do. Then, splashing your face with your water bottle reminds you of being a kid and remembering how absolutely glorious it was when someone's mom on the soccer team packed the little white cloths soaked in ice that she brought over at halftime. The orange slices were cool, and I used to really dig that halftime experience, but the mom that went COMPLETELY overboard at Sam's Club before the weekend's game needs to pump the breaks and not give me a Hi-C juicebox. I've got my huge ass water jug to satisfy me. Go back to the other sideline now, psycho mom. 
(note: My mom was never a psycho soccer mom. She was one of the 'cool' soccer moms.)
(re:note: Except during try-out week for club soccer. My sister and I both HATE the first week of June for that reason. That's a whole 'nother B L O G I will post about some day!)
Anyway, so I've been outside, in my redneck lawn chair, and wishing I had one of those gallon sized water jugs I toted all through hell and half of Georgia during my soccer years. And I've ALSO wished I had a soccer-crazy mom here to give me one of those perfectly rolled, iced down rags. Get those at Sam's, too?
That's why I haven't been blogging. My body was craving the vitamin E that it so badly needed. Since I cracked on my mom for a second there I have to take this opportunity (while we're on the subject of tanning and vitamin E) to razz about my Dad for a moment. ( Note: Momma knows how she was when she went full force into "soccer mom" mode, so she knows I'm just knockin' on her, Ashley does it too!).
My dad has a perma-tan.
Not kidding, a friend of a friend saw my Dad when he was here after the fire, and asked what nationality I was. "White, she tans really dark, but not to where she looks like she's non-Caucasion."
"Yeah, that's what I thought. I just didn't know if they were from one of the islands or something. Her Dad is like super-tan. And like a real tan, not a fake tan."
"Yeah, he really is ALWAYS tan, now that I think about it. Like Saban."
Except Saban doesn't smile. My Dad does. Especially when he's in the sun.
He swears by Vitamin E, the only natural source being the sunshine. I mean, because of his profession, Dad knows his pharmacology and is ridiculously well-versed on medicines, vaccines, and such.  But he'd be the first one to tell you that sometimes it's not what the doctor orders that makes you feel healthy. Just lay out in the sun. Quit being a hermit crab, you're almost blinding me you're so bright. Right, Dad? (Not you, of course, just the dweebs that don't lay out in their driveways.)

POP QUIZ: What is my Dad's favorite thing to do?

a.) yard work

b.) hosing down pool lanai/back patio

c.) sun bathing

d.) all of the above

The correct answer is d.) all of the above. Seriously, our house is like a playground for him on Saturday's. But sun bathing I think is his favorite. I can just see my parents when they're senior citizens. Somehow, someway, however, my dad won't look like a senior citizen. The man doesn't age. But they'll be tan... and permanently beachside and oily. And in love, they're so cute. But seriously, Dad will be that grey headed old man that wakes up at the crack of dawn, at their Marco Island condominium, to go run around in the sand doing "high intensity" workouts. I'm pretty sure the last time I was inside a gym working out I saw where they offer "high intensity" workout sessions... in the air conditioning. I might be mistaking, because Lord knows it's been a while since I've been in "gym mode." 

But the point is, a sun worshipper such as my Dad, is that man that will retire by the sea, and never lose his tan.

But for now, since he's not retired yet and all, he soaks it all up in the driveway. Of our corner house. I haven't even told you the best part yet.

There are two things that sets aside the truly passionate sun-bather from the total wanna-bes.

1. The truly passionate sun-bather has a chair like my dad's. And the ottomon. (Black, of course. It attracts the sun more.)

WiLL WorK for FOOD

  WiLL HaVE a NeaRdeaTh ExperiEnCE for a PeRMa-TAN

and

2. The truly passionate sun-bather receives a mist stand for the outdoor hose as a gift from one of his daughters.

Mist totally puts to shame the iced down cloths that the psychotic "Team Mom" brought over at halftime. She was probably just trying to get some gossip, so that she can "1 up" the equally obsessed other mom's when it comes that time of year... da na na na... TRY-OUT WEEK!

Don't get sad, Mom. It was fun while it lasted. Now, we all have less risk of a heart attack because of that first week in June no longer being life defining. You took care of business, though. Didn't she Ash?

So there's where I have been. I have been laying out in my chair, which makes me think of my dad, which made me give you the background rundown of his Vitamin E addiction. Then when I thought of Dad, I thought of Mom, and how I loved those iced down rags, and then I told you how my Mom wasn't a bonified psycho soccer-mom, but she was borderline at times. Try out week? Buckle up!

Oh Dad, by the way, those chairs that you got me when you & Mom visited that weekend before the fire... well, you were right, they are good sun-bathing chairs. I should have trusted you all along though, because you and your Hawaiian Tropic tan had your butt in one of them in Ashley & Tyler's driveway the second all the women started fighting over the hand-made curtains. I have a problem, though, and I feel like you are the expert/Dr. Phil of sun-bathing. How do you suggest I go about tanning my back? You might not know, though, because I feel like you always tanned your back while doing yard work. Too bad you can't really catch a tan (to your standards, at least) when you turn loose on the lanai with the hose. Because you'd be pretty sun-kissed by the 4th hose down, and you'd be deeply bronzed by the 6th. That damn UV-Ray protection on the pool screen, huh? Oh, P.S. You missed a spot.

In all seriousness, I'm going to get my blog on and tryyyy to stayyy awayyy from the lawn chair. Scientific evidence proves that addiction is hereditary. I wonder if your crazy level during your child's try-out week is hereditary, too. Probably.

I'm so H A P P Y that it is summatime. I'm loving music, the sun (you got that by now I'm sure), friends, my tanning buddy (Millie), wine on the front porch, the smell of citronella candles, baseball, watermelon, and new flowers popping up on the side of the road. And perma-tans. And soccer moms.

I look forward to blogging about summer! I'll give you a run down on what it all entails except the best part can't be told. Summer time is when all the spontaneity turns lose. And I've got senioritis. And I'm busting out into this new beginning... with a bikini on.

PeaceANDLove

Baily J

i want to be her right now.

i do actually miss being a little florida girl.

i wouldn't mind this view for a week or so.

relaxing? fo' sho!

you, right there... you're my favorite place ever.

rum point. grand cayman. heaven on earth.

i would probably make myself an island girl. and maybe eventually I could be even (skin tone, speaking) with butch.

i need to plan one of THESE for this summer.

a trip to a lake house with friends.

i'd even do the river. i'm in alabama, i'll take what i can get. especially since there's not a huge risk of alligator and shark attacks.

this HAS TO happen. jaxapalooza 2010. 2009 was AMAZING, but we can outdo it.

attention boriquas (oviedo ladies), let's get to it and do it.

sitting beachside at a tiki bar drinking hella-delicious mango lemonades with the most awesome group of girls in the world? Well...... don't mind if i do!

adult cousins. mom/dad/aunt/uncle's bar tab.

grove park inn piano bar.

yeah, where all the rich and famous stay. the wine and cheese crowd.

summer reunion = rip roarin' and whiskey bent.

pardon our inner redneck, we don't do wine and cheese.

can't wait for this summer's reunion. ash and ty will be there. and chace will be thrown into the reality-tv show life of our crazy (but amazing) family.

Ow! Ow! I love summer :)

Get your bikini on, grab your huge ass water jug (and good luck at try-outs), or get your dorm room "sphere chair" out in the driveway and grease up because it'll go by fast.

and you know what that means....

F O O T B A L L season!!!

(when Saban debuts his high def quality perma-tan)

.

the wayne newton of college football

Hello Lovelies!

I can't wait to see my favorites. Two years has been way too long, girls.

I'm drowning in the absence. I wonder how many times I'll go see it in theaters this time?

And with Aiden showing up with his cutesy little self, I have a feeling I might be able to relate to the ever-winding and unpredictable road that Carrie travels in search of her soulmate.

Better late than never? I know how you feel, girl.

Oh, Miss Bradhsaw, you've taught me so much...

The most fabulous journalists wear newspapers.

And I always dig the flower power. Ha! As if SJP/Carrie needs anymore power.

She's pretty bada$$

and i'm pretty obsesssed

and you write like hemmingway to me. xoxoxo

peacebailylove

coinstar&colors

Title: Coinstars and Colors

By: one of Baily Jones' ater-egos "The Philosopher"

Series: Philosophy Of Life On Days I Forgot To Take My Meds

Kathleen came over and picked me up to do a very "Baily/Kathleen" thing. We ate food (a reg), and she made me eat healthy because that's just how she is. She reads "Shape." Then we went to Publix. She did pick up a few groceries, but the main reason we went was to use the "Coinstar" system. Broke + Weekend = a miserable, no fun weekend.

I got 24 dollars 98 cents back. Then it took away 8% for a service fee (because this machine works so hard in the 37.4 seconds it took to count my half-ful sandwich baggie of coins) and I was left with 22 dollars and 98 cents. I wish it would have just taken the 98 cents as another "service" tip or rounded up or something. I mean, wasn't the sole purpose of me doing this to make use of the change I had lying around my room, car, and at the bottom of my duffel bag purse? Gee, thanks for this giant wad of coins, Coinstar. That's 1/2 a beer at Happy Hour.

Kathleen laughed at my misfortune. Then I saw the floral department. I had started my day off in an ill mood (that's another story) and I saw a new variety of spring flowers, and the small price, and I convinced myself to buy them within like .4 seconds. With my Coinstar money of course. Hello! My name is Baily and money burns holes in my pocket. I was economically aware, however. Instead of buying two small bouquets, which would cost me 6 dolla bills, I bought one large bouquet, which cost me 4 dolla bills, and split it in half. I had fun playing with them when I got home, and finally I snapped out of A.D.D.-ville and realized I'd spent wasted way more time on these bargain flowers than I should have. Then I lost something, and I've wasted a seriously pathetic amount of time on trying to find it. So basically, other than knocking out a couple of random things on my to-do list, I've produced these 2 flower arrangements and not much else. Oh, here, I wrote some letters today on my new (duh) stationary that I'm obsessed with. Here are my quick pics sent via the CrackBerry so continue to disregard my photography skills until that glorious day when I get my personal claims check from State Farm and I can replace my beloved digi-cam.

Don't you love my turquoise vases? I found them The bedside vase was found here and the one with John Lennon and his words of groovyness was found here. (I frequent these places, on the reg!) I was very excited about my psychadelic colored bouquet. When we were standing in line to pay, Kathleen goes "those flowers really are pretty, they like, look like you. You know what I mean? You can tell Baily picked those out."  I liked that. I guess bold and funky girls can be a lot like bold and funky flowers... add a little color to your life. These walls are still bare and the space in this room still swallows the matter of my possessions, but the flowers have made me feel a lot more at home and they've also made it an enjoyable room. I hope that girls like me do that in life. I know that I can be a little coo-coo (or a lot) and I know that I can irritate the snot out of you, but I hope I make my presence an enjoyable one or that my personality is welcoming and makes people feel "at home" because that's what I think of myself, a down-home girl with some spunk and a little sass.  Ok, maybe a lot of sass, or too much sass, but everyone has sass, and that's not the point, nevermind. (See how distracted I get? I still haven't found what I'm looking for, by the way). I just hope I bring color to people's lives and not that dark/grey kind of feeling that none of us wants in our lives.  I know that the sugary-sweet type of girls add the pleasantly pretty pastels to life that we all enjoy. The vixen type of girls that we all (top)secretly love but don't admit to loving because she's a celeb-skank or hot mess or whatev, well they add the bubble gum pink and reds. Oh, and the bleach blonde color, too (come on, 'fess up, who doesn't have a favorite bombshell skanky blonde?) The Billy Bob Thorton-era Angelina type girls add the steel greys and smokey blacks that we all enjoy as long as it's not a total emo over-kill. The surfer girls add blue hues and the ranch wives and daughters add the green beams. But girls like me, hopefully add the colors of my bargain bouquet. Summer-lovin', musicfests, and coulda woulda shoulda been there at Woodstock type of girls. I'm not really an Earth-Tone type, because those girls don't eat meat, or white bread, or sip fabulous martinis in cocktail dresses. See what I mean, I come in all various sorts. One day I'm tiedyed out in a cotton maxi dress with gladiators and listenin' to music with friends and taking it easy and the next day I'm rockin' a sequined mini-dress with booties and dancing to Van Morrison. Then the next day I'm probably a crunchy granola type and wearing a bandana in my hair or making Millie wear one around her neck. (or both, I know, super lame). Then another day I'm jocked out in spandex with super-flattening sports bra and a pair of workout kicks. Then sometimes I'm just a sloppy blob in wife-beaters. Did someone just say I wear wife-beaters every day? Shut your mouth.

But seriously... have you ever wondered what you bring to other people's lives? If life were a picnic, what item would you be? If it was a garden, what flower? (I've written an entire blog on that by the way). What about, if life was a circus, what animal or act would you be? I get incredibly zoned in on an idea sometimes and think I'm a bonified philosophical genius, but then I realize how stoopid it sounds when I try to explain my philosophical ponders (apparently I'm such an incredibly deep thinker and wayyyy to smart for y'all, that's why I lost you about 5 minutes ago). Haha. Oh well, maybe some of you are groovin' with me. 

Q:: If life were a circus, what animal would I be? A:: The circus freak.

Well, I just wanted to tell my story about the Coinstar trip -and my 98 cents- and share the picture and story behind my funky little bouquets with you. Then somewhere along the way, I lost track of my purpose and became a philosopher who's bat shit crazy. My apologies.

peacelifeloveHere's the words of groovyness that John Lennon said when he was a dreamer and 'imagine'd a bunch of cool things. "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."

baily

blue bonnets

Hair blowin' in the wind

Wonder what you pretend you are

When you run

Bandana on your head

Your face is turning red

You throw it down to the ground

When you are done

I'll think of you

When the blue bonnets bloom

When the blue bonnets bloom

I'll think of you

You always seem to make me laugh

When you ask, "what is that?"

A million times

And you know

Little things that you do

They are the things that get me through

When I'm up to my hips in snow

Another night, I'm working hard

Another night, another bar

A million miles outta touch

Say your prayers, say my name

Keep it fresh on your brain

And don't forget I love you this much.

-Cross Candadian Ragweed-

this has always been one of my favorite songs. before the fire, i had it on vinyl. it's funny how a song can take you back to a certain place in time. the acoustic is eerily nostalgic for me, and the lyrics have more substance than just words to a melody. to me, it makes me think of a certain time, a certain person, and a certain personal conflict that i was going through. i was faced with two options during this certain time. there were two people that each had pieces of my heart, a little place in the history of my life, and opportunities for second chances. i went to oz record store to clear my head, and came home with a cross canadian ragweed vinyl. i listened to this song. i just dropped the needle on some random track and told myself to listen to the words and see if it helps me in some way. yes, i'm weird like that and when my indecisive nature rules over any other means of making the right decisions, i turn to my music. painters paint, singers sing, and music lovers listen to the music they love. on this day, i bought the vinyl on happen-chance, and let it speak to me. i had never heard this song before that day, but i played it a lot. come to think of it, i think it was the record that was still on the turntable when the fire destroyed it. when i heard the words to this song i knew exactly what my life was doing and what my heart was feeling. i pictured the one person that would actually say these things about me. the person that likes the little things about me. and probably the only person that digs it when i wear my bandanas in my hair. i smiled when i heard the words, and to this day the song just soothes me. maybe we all should stop to listen a little closer to what our songs are actually saying to us. it helped me get my mind straight and it helped me follow my heart instead of making another decision i would eventually someday regret, big time. i should have known, someone once told me that

music is what feelings sound like.

peaceandloveeverlasting

baily

Wildflower's Weekly Recap

<on the reg>

in one word or phrase: strengthened

dreaming of you: insurance claim check

song on repeat: you got the love by joss stone

gotta write it down: lyrics to the song above.

sometimes it seems that the going is just too rough

and things go wrong no matter what i do

now and then it feels like life is just too much

you've got the love i need to see me through

when food is gone you are my daily meal

when friends are gone i know my savior's love is real

your love is real

every once in a while i say Lord i can't go on

every once in a while i get to feeling blue

every once in a while it seems like i am all alone

but you got the love i need to see me through

lesson learned: (1) i like costco more than sam's club; target more than wal-mart

(2) a girl is lucky if a man loves her even after all the mistakes, bad judgements, and poor decisions she made. when he loves even her flaws and doesn't turn away from her when the going gets tough. usually, there's only 2 men in a girl's life that this regards: jesus and our daddy. but for some, for girls like me, we have that kind of love from someone else, and we ought to never take it for granted.

picture to frame:

highlight of the week: getting my mattress/having my own bed

weekend to-do list: (1) quality time with chace

(2) paint my desk magenta

(3) book my flight to orlando for justin core's wedding

(4) first baptist trussville w/ash.ty.chace.

(5) oak mountain state park w/millie.tripp.chace.

(6) mourn the loss of casey (mad crush) on american idol but root for my girl (janis reincarnate) crystal

enjoying the ride, and not worrying about the destination

peaceandlove

bailyjj

oviedolove

I'm hardcore missing Oviedo right now.

I think it hit me today that my visits have become very few and far between this semester.

I'm really excited about going home for my best friends wedding, just wish I could make it down there soon for a relaxing weekend.

The one's where I get to ride to the beach in the Jeep with the top down.

Grill a steak with Daddy on the lanai on Sunday nights.

Meet a friend at The Black Hammock for some Coors Lights.

Watch  the chickens cross the road. (Literally)

Listen to the swamp music.

Smell the orangeblossoms and citrus blooms.

Don't mind me, I just saw the music video to ":08 Ride" by Luke Bryan and I saw my favorite little fish camp getaway. Where summer nights turn into summer mornings when I'm with the best friends in the world and sitting by an "airboat only" lake that is alligator haven. It's an Oviedo thing.

photos found @ Black Hammock Facebook page

Peace&Love

Bai

self-revelation

Today's been a good day. I took a break from running errands and doing lesson plans and just let myself sort of breathe. Ahhh, finally!

I woke up and walked Millie on an intended 1.5 mile walk. We made it halfway. I must have missed the phase where 9am felt like a sunny-but-cool Spring morning. Summer's here, needless to say. I almost died. Then I thought of how much of a badass I must have been when I was in high school and practiced cross-country at 3pm, on the deadly heat of Orlando's asphalt, and in the fiery furnace of August & September in Central Florida. Since I didn't see my dad standing there pushing me along on every turn like I did in a race, I very graciously veered Millie "off-course" and took the short-cut home. And still almost died.

Since I almost died, I figured I must've burned some calories so I got in the driver's seat of my car and Millie hopped in the passenger seat and we drove to Jack's. I was hell-bent and determined I was going to have me an order of biscuits 'n gravy. They were simply amazing. Millie says, "mine was too!" Except she had an order of hashbrowns.

I took my time getting my things together, but I eventually headed over to CrimsonPlace condominiums to meet some friends at the pool. I got to catch up with Kathleen, finally, which is a hard task because she's taking an interim class, a Master's student, a lifegaurd by day, and bartender by night. Getting a lunch in with her, which lasts under an hour usually, is as hard as the secondary education and history classes that consume her. So you know how excited I must be to have seen her today, and am seeing her again tonight! I've blogged about her before. She's equally as passionate about fulfilling her life goals as I am and she's got a style and grace that is all her own. If I am a Woodstock loving, vinyl record collecting, free-spirit, then she is denim and diamonds, driving for Dale and dancin' to Hank kind of girl that channels a true June Carter. When you get us together, give us a Light beer, and turn us loose to a country cover band, you're bound to see a show. Equally clumsy, too, so usually one of us is on the ground and the other is pointing and laughing.

I got to see Kayley at the pool, too, and I don't think I've ever found myself with my two closest friends, in the middle of the day, poolside in quite some time. It feel ahhh-mazing! Kayley had cooked dinner at her boyfriend and one of my best guy friend's apartment last night and had me over to eat. We had yummy chicken and scalloped potatoes and watched the Dancing With The Stars results show. I was sad to see Ochocinco go home, but I would have screamed bloody murder if Erin Andrews was sent home. It would have been that incredibly painful for me. Monday night when the episode showcased the celebrity's background and life, I was moved by Erin. Everyone knows that I idolize her because of her passion for her school (even though it is UF and all) and because of her success in my "other" dream career. (see my other blog here) But her ability to come out and do a show that is so daring and performance-oriented made me have NOTHING but utmost respect for her. After her showcased biography during Monday night's performance round, she came out and kicked some serious ass and made a statement for women everywhere that have been victimized by sexual harassment. All I can say is, bravo! And to Kayley's cooking, bravo! I'm looking forward to having a good time with good friends, and the term 'good friend' is an understatement for Kayley. Her goodness to me was so bountiful after the fire. She thought to bring me makeup, hair tools, toiletries, under garments, socks, razors, nail files, the little things that make a big difference when they aren't taken for granted. I hadn't even realized that I lost all the little things like nail clippers and tweezers, but she did. There aren't enough good things I can say about a friend like that. The kind of friend that walks in when everyone else walks out.

That's why I don't care that I haven't heard from KG, BB, WP, and many others that I thought were my "best friends" before I was struck with this personally huge disaster. It's funny, too, because as I talked to Kathleen and Kayley about how I believe in soulmates now, I told them that things happen so that we can see who and what are supposed to be in our lives... and not only that, but do you know what the one thing is that sets a regular learning experience apart from the truly life-changing? You find out the WHY to go along with the who and what. Maybe I was that far from God and He needed something to happen that challenged my mind and my heart, but also my soul and my life in general. I learn new reasons WHY everyday when I stop myself from complaining about my plastic dresser and my bare walls, and instead praise God for giving me clothes to even need a plastic dresser, and for giving me the plastic dresser because some people have nothing. I praise him for the walls that keep me sheltered, and pray for the people who do not know of such a thing. And you find people that admire you and you find an even deeper admiration for them because they stopped to notice the positive change in your life. These things, these are the why's.

Today Kayley said something as I was walking away from the pool and Kathleen agreed. It feels good to know that the Lord's work in my heart is showing on the outside. I refuse to hide it under a bushel. I heard her say this, "Baily's a changed person because of this. That fire was life-changing for her." 

I needed the change. I needed the Lord to work in mysterious ways on me. And he has. Bravo, God! Bravo!

Peace&Love

Baily

let me talk southern to you

"Southern girls are God's gift to the entire male population. There is no woman finer than one raised below the

Mason-Dixon line. And once you go Southern,

may the Good Lord help you, you never go back."

-Kenny Chesney

please visit Hands On Nashville and make a donation for flood relief

please visit Save Our Gulf to donate/see what you can do to help the Waterkeeper Alliance protect and restore our beloved Southern coasts that are horribly affected by the oil spill

I can proudly say that the warm-hearted, graceful women and men of the South proudly help relief efforts, both domestic and international. As Dixie finally got back on her feet after the 2004 and 2005 hurricane seasons in Florida, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama, disaster struck us again. I know what it feels like to lose possessions, and I promise to advocate and volunteer to save my homeland.

Please help!

sweet Southern comfort, carry on....

hgtv?

Well, here I am. All moved in. And guess what? I don't think I'm as neurotic as I (and some others) think I am!! Considering where I slept last night. But on the downside, I still get on those famous "high horses" of mine. Like when I posted a blog a couple of weeks ago and told you that I would NEVER, EVER, not in a million years would I, move back in to the same bedroom that I watched burn down.

Well, Millie's got a foot in her mouth for me. (Her 'Granna' sent her this because Millie used to bite at my toenails when she was a little itty bitty thing and my mom insisted that this [according to her] looks like my "ugly curvy feet." Gee, thanks! Sadly enough, the missing polish on the big toe does in fact look like mine right now. Who wants to go get pedis?)

At least I sounded convincing when I first went on my rage of refusal. It wasn't all that bad, though. New bed, new linens, new paint on the walls, and some new pretty tile on the floors that not only look better than the ancient, puppy-stained, grey, 'wanna-be berber' carpet but they remind me of being in my parent's clean and tiled Florida home. There's not too much decor, but I love my bohemian influence I threw in there. I dig the magenta, turquoise, mustard yellow, and lime green flare!

My wonderful and adorable boyfriend borrowed Tyler's truck and brought me some furniture. I'm going to paint my desk magenta with a creamy colored "crackle effect." I understand if you don't know the savvy Sherwin-Williams terms. I don't either. I was asked if I wanted a flat, satin, or glossy finish for my paint and I answered "flat." Then I was told I'd be getting satin. Sooooo, why'd ya even ask? Between he and Tyler, I have two very confident Sherwin-Williams managers in my life. Help me God, there is more to this life than high-quality paint, right? I had to add the high-quality part so that I don't get in trouble by tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum. I didn't make up those nicknames, let me get that clear, my Dad did and even though I love you both dearly, I must take Butch's side on this one.

I was going to paint the hand-me-down beside table, but then one of the Sherwin-Williams experts mentioned sandpaper and that idea went out the friggin' window. I don't like sandpaper. It somehow has the advantage over me when it comes to my phobia of the dentist. Call me crazy, but if  you would be too if you had to go through 23097 sets of front teeth and had to spend half your life in a dentist chair while they did whatever was done that felt oddly like taking sandpaper and going to town on my bonded, capped, and veneered pearly whites. Thank heavens for laughing gas (which made nothing about any of my dental experiences funny) and sometimes a tiny dose of Valium. So, sandpapering is a no-go! I still have my 14 different Wal-Mart lists thrown amongst the house, in true fire-refugee style, so I am adding a table cover to one of them and hope I remember it when I get inside the doomed place. I hate Wal-Mart. Still. Target girl 4 Life!

Thanks to everyone that has helped me get things rolling in my new, well newly renovated, dwelling. I have a lot to be thankful for and I will honor the Lord and praise Him for helping me through this hard time every night that I lay my head down to sleep on my very OWN bed! And maybe an afternoon nap here and there. What? Twenty-something year olds get tired, too.

Peace&Love

Bai

p.s. This is how Millie was playing with her toy while I was writing this.

What a weirdo.

Can you tell she blongs to me?

Not because she's weird, but because of those fantastic legs! ;)

Pardon the pictures. Resulting from the fire, I am camera-less. And I'm pretty sure my CrackBerry camera has a few smudges on the lense. More later? Possibly, maybe not. I'm busy ok.

i just can't hide it

Today I get my mattress. I don't really know if words can describe how absolutely happy I am. Last week I had a freak-out session that was not very pretty. When I got back to my old house to move back in I realized just how empty that place was and how I didn't have any posessions. I had been living at the hotel for so long, then on my hiking trip, then staying a couple of nights at Ashley and Tyler's in Trussville, and I completely forgot that I didn't have a bed to lay down on, furniture to organize my things in, or anywhere with privacy to sit down and do work on lesson plans. Needless to say, I have the best mom in the world and she went researching mattresses and found us a good deal. So, here I wait for it!

I AM REALLY EXCITED!!! And Chace is bringing me some furniture!!!!!

Thanks Momma! I love you! You too Dad!

Peace&Love

Bai

livin' the dream

Every little Southern girl has her dreams in life. I have a lot. I want a lot. But third to a loving husband and healthy family, I want a happy home. I have a dream home. I don't just read gossip magazines and music columns, I read Southern Living and Better Homes & Gardens, too! My mom sacrificed a lot so that I could grow up in a happy home. She taught me that a loving husband, like my dad, is important. Our family cherished the health we were given. And we always had a place, a happy place, that was home. So much love was grown in that four bedroom, Floridian home.

I want horses. I believe firmly in the therapeutic cause of ponies and horses. I want to provide a place where children with disabilities can experience the boundless joy that comes from riding a horse and connecting with another one of God's beautiful creations. I want a front porch where I can sip sweet tea with my girlfriends and pose for family portraits. I want nature to surround me and remind me that there's more to life than concrete jungles and big city lights and motivate me to help protect our earth. I want a yard that sets the stage for barefoot children to dance around with their popsicle smiles in the summertime. I want fireflies and the smell of citronella candles. Worn in leather that binds the family Bible. A reading room with grandmother's quilts. White linen on a clothes line, and a red wine reminder to not sweat the small stuff. A garden and a hammock. A husband and a wife, freckle-faced kids, and the slow drawl of a family prayer before bedtime. A home, where all that love is hand-made and crafted to perfection.

Someone once told me, the best dreams are the ones that, more often than not, come true.

Peace&Love&DreamsInLife

Bai

disney epiphany

I got an email from my roommate Elena yesterday, and it really got me thinking about something that my mind has never really toyed with before. She had proposed to me the idea of a few of us going to Orlando sometime in the next couple of weeks. As you all know, I LOVE my home with extra X's and O's. Of course I want to go down there soon, and after spending a month cooped up and alone at the Fairfield Inn, I think the more the merrier! I'm sure we'll arrange the details later... but right now I am smiling at the thoughts that are racing through my head.

E is one of those girls that I never got to be. Well, I guess I got to be like her when I lived in Asheville before we moved to Orlando when I was 5. These girls, like E, go to sleep and dream in brilliant cartoons. They marvel at Cinderella's castle, and they'd do anything to be spinning in a giant tea cup. Elena is a Disney obsessor. See, she has lived all over the nation. She comes from a military family and has never lived in any one place for more than 5 years. The fact that I not only have a solid "home-base" but an Orlando home, is fascinating to E. I think I am guilty of taking that for granted from time to time. The fact that fascinates me, on the other hand, is that so many people who I have come to know over the past few years weren't as fortunate as I was to grow up miles away from our favorite princess's enchanted castle. So maybe E takes it to the extreme when she goes out in public with me wearing a Mickey Mouse t-shirt. But you know what? I'd probably do the same thing if I were like most of my college friends who didn't go to middle school and high school with girls that held Summer jobs being Jasmine, Sleeping Beauty, and Pochahontas. I told E that and her instant response was, "I'd make a damn good Pochahontas." Since she's half-Korean I joked with her that she'd have to be Mulan - everyone's favorite asian princess.

I could only imagine the look on Elena's face when she first stepped through the entry gates at The Magic Kingdom - when she was a 20 year old sophomore in college.  No matter what else was going on in the world that day, she would have had to be (by far) the happiest girl in the whole wide world. It's funny how every so often you can truly see the difference in lifestyle that sets me apart from most of my friends. A dream vaca for some, a field trip (or 10) for me. I'd love to lie and say I remember my first trip to Disney when I was a terrible adorable toddler, but I can't recall all that much. I'm just glad I got to experience the first-time magic of it all as a tourist.

As much as I love the Orlando area, (especially little/big Oviedo) I do have to admit that the glitz and glam are quickly stripped from the idea of Disney World when you're a local. My driveway is a good 40 minutes to Disney World, with the help of a toll road expressway. Ha - even the toll road issue is another thing that clearly shows whether you are a local or a tourist. They bitch about having to pay to use the roads, we dig the fact that there's no state income tax. What tickles me the most though, is that the tourist population has a conniption fit over a $0.50 fare to truck along the expressway but they gladly drop $300 at the gift shop on a "Goofy" hat with dog ears, a princess tiara with mouse ears and a red polka-dotted bow, and matching Disney logo t-shirts for all 16 family members. Don't forget the fanny pack and rain ponchos. $325.

So even though being an "Orlando girl" takes a little bit more of Tinker Bell's pixie dust to get in the Disney spirit, I am humbled by how fortunate I was. Because there are girls, girls like E, who aren't neighbors to the Disney family and never copied The Little Mermaid's math homework before the bell rang for school.

But if we're lucky, we meet a girl like E. And even though it's fun to tease her for her Mickey Mouse shirts and her 92 Disney VHS tapes (yes VHS, not DVD) it's also important that us "Orlando girls" not take our life for granted. We could have lived somewhere really lame, or never have gotten to experience the mouth-watering glory that comes in the shape of the ever-so-famous Disney turkey leg. Our tourist industry would be all of, what, GatorLand? Our list of concerts we've been to would be cut in half because the tourist industry brought Hard Rock Live to our city, we'd probably never bar-hop around Disney's Pleasure Island, and there's no telling what our prom committee would come up with when choosing a place for the big dance if it weren't for the plethora of 5-star resorts that popped up all over the place and are in large part due to ole Walt and his fantasia-genius.

Home, vacation, fantasy world, tourist-haven... whatever it might be, it won't be taken for granted.

Peace&Love

Baily